Shinigami Sunset
by crihavoc
Summary: Ichigo, Orihime and Rukia are covered in red. Is it the ruddy light of the setting sun... or something else? One shot story, complete.


Shinigami sunset

Disclaimer:

I did not build this sandbox. Tite Kubo did, constructing it out of the best possible materials. I have taken the liberty of using it for my own purposes; I believe I have returned all of his possessions the way I found them, none the worse for wear. Hopefully.

Any errors, misspellings or mistakes in the use of the romaji rendering of Japanese terms is entirely my fault. If the story sucks, well, hey... thanks for your time.

Playlist:

The following songs are recommended listening with this story -

System of a Down - Question

Chemical Brothers / Richard Patrick - (Can't You) Trip Like I Do (Spawn remix)

The Killers - All These Things That I've Done

Staind - Price to Play

**1. Karakura Town at the death of the day **

Brilliant orange – red, the sun dropped through the final cloud – scudded course of its circuit, daubing pungent color on the pale flanks and shoulders of the structures forming the city's broken skyline, igniting the holes of their high windows, forming echelons of glaring, blazing eyes.

A fiery tableau above. And below, a murder of unfurling shadow.

Ichigo Kurosaki leapt up from the darkness between buildings and into the dwindling light, shredded shihakusho flapping and the tattered banner of Zangetsu's sheath- wrapper whipping jagged in trail, describing his ascent. Zangetsu, soul cutter, held low and to the right in one rawboned hand; even as the Soul Reaper rose, his wrist rotated and cocked to bring the edge of the black and silver blade in line with his enemy.

The sunlight struck his face as a blinding circle of light. That was unexpected, and in reflex his spirit – eyes squinted. His lips stretched into a grin. Fresh rivulets of blood flowed along the congealing red pathways etched onto his skin. His grin widened.

A predatory shape in spread silhouette dropped impossibly fast towards him. Framed by the sun's burning disk, seemingly fire – filled with ruddy light glowing through the hole where a soul had once been seated, gleaming from ragged claws and jagged eyes, it fell. Hollow. A hateful screeching yowl carried to Ichigo's spirit – ears through what passed for wind in the marginalized plane an eyelash from normal human perception. Razor fingers stretching in menace, the crusty rows of oversized shark – teeth in his enemy's misshapen head leaked a yellow tinged and viscous liquid that sloughed off into the passing air, forming twin poisonous contrails that imprisoned rays from the dying sun and glowed like oblate bits of amber.

The sun was unexpected, but the hollow's fall brought it now into the shadows with him, under the cowl of the high- rises. A last beam leaked through the soul- hole and splashed around the blood- flecked curve of Ichigo's mouth.

His eyes glowed up from the dark with a fire entirely their own.

Below, people walked and ran and carried on their business. Below, cars bumbled through the evening rush hour, the heart of the commute marked by the numbing cycle of the stop- lights. Below, bulbs flickered on like sudden thoughts amidst the stunted trees, above the gray and grimy asphalt and in the street – facing shop windows.

Above, the black shape of a helicopter, striped with final lashes from the daystar, swept in orbit above the darkling Karakura byways. Above even that, the long inkblot of a jet pissed white ropes behind it as it nosed through rosy cotton towards some unknown destination.

Zangetsu swung upwards, so fast to seem a solid midnight arc, edge a gleaming sickle moon.

The hollow, imbued with shield- like extrusions on its four forearms, moved to block the sword strike. The soul cutter impacted with a muffled cracking sound that in no way indicated the fury of the kiri age, slicing and shattering the lower left arm of the creature. Cracks appeared across the white – gray armor of the hollow on the flank beneath the damaged arm, even as the transferred energy knocked it sideways. Keening, it ripped with foot - long claws at the shinigami, using three arms and two stumpy legs, unmindful of its tumbling state or the new trajectory that carried it away from him, towards the side of an office building nearby.

The soul – sensitive individuals in the milling thousands below found themselves gazing upwards into the gloaming for no reason they could fathom, echoes of silent thunder fading to their puzzled minds.

Ichigo, allowing the momentum of his attack to effect him, pivoted his hips and landed on a ledge extending from the side of the building behind. His grin melted into a frown, the line deepening between his eyes as he tracked the hollow's path towards the bluff exterior of the structure opposite, hundreds of souls in offices abutting the exterior wall plain to his senses.

Seconds to impact.

"Yo! Orahime!" He made his voice carry across the distance to the two figures he couldn't see, that he knew were there. He did not intend for the high and desperate timbre his concern injected to turn his cry into a plea. But, it did.

**2. Same place, same day. Earlier.**

The sunlight was in her eyes, and Orihime Inoue shaded them with both hands as she peered around at the tops of the buildings surrounding her. "Kuchiki – san," she said to her companion, "where is the hollow, again? I can't find it." She squinted her eyes dramatically and brushed back stray strands of her long hair. Her hair clips reflected back the light with a brighter than natural glow. She was wearing a long green skirt, white sneakers and a Bonta – kun t – shirt that was decidedly tight around her chest.

Without looking up from her cel – phone sized hollow detector, Rukia Kuchiki pointed to her three o'clock, narrowly missing Orihime's nose. "There." She replied shortly, her lips drawn up in a grimace. "It's acting rather atypically for this type of hollow…" She raised an eyebrow over her lavender eyes and began to chew on her lower lip. The fingers of her free hand tapped against the studs on the hip of her black jeans. The polo she had liberated from Ichigo's closet was too big for her, "Kick – ass Supahstah" stitched onto the left breast.

Orihime's eyes crossed as she focused on Rukia's finger tip, then moved her head to follow the line it dictated, straight to an office building rooftop on the next block to the east. "Oh!" She exclaimed. "It's right… there… Rukia - chan," she said in a small and horrified voice, "I think it's feeding!" As if feeling the touch of her gaze, the hollow's broad shoulders stopped moving. Its head pivoted on its neck with the unnatural alacrity of a preying mantis, assessing the surrounding rooftops with luminous eyes.

"Eh?" Rukia's head rose, her close helmet of dark hair bobbing slightly. Her eyes widened, then squinted. "It's got a spirit, someone who died on the rooftop… a jumper…?" She moved swiftly to the edge of the building top, her low boots crunching on gravel as she reached it. In one agile move she hopped up onto the low wall at the edge and began to stride along it, blind to Orihime's startled look. Rukia stopped, the tip of one boot extending out over the sheer drop, tensed her short, lean frame and cupped a hand around her mouth. "Hey, Ichigo!" she yelled. "Hey!"

"What!" An irritated voice drifted up from below.

Rukia began a series of pointing gestures, sweeping her free arm around, cel phone still clutched in her hand. "Over there! It's… Over… There!"

"What! What are you doing with your arm?"

"You idiot! HOLLOW… OVER… THERE!" She jabbed pointing hands forward to emphasize each word, bobbled the cel phone and had to perform a difficult snatch – and – wobble maneuver to retain her balance. Once she was settled in her footing again she blew a sigh of breath upwards, briefly moving the lock of raven hair straying across her face.

There was a pause. "Oh!" The voice from below said, finally. "The hollow's over there..?" Rukia growled softly as Ichigo continued his response. "Okay. Make sure Orihime's ready with her shield – thingy just in case."

Rukia began to turn away. "Hey, nice dance, there…!" The voice commented. She winced, teeth gritting. A red tipped black blur began zig – zag jumps up the cracked and filthy sides of the buildings on the city block opposite their position, climbing towards the hollow.

"Idiot!" Rukia sputtered, hands clenched at her sides. Then, she snorted a laugh.

"… so strong …" Orihime said to herself, staring at Rukia's back. Rukia looked over her shoulder and tilted her head in a questioning look. Orihime held out a hand palm – up and shook her head, smiling apologetically. "Nothing, never mind. I heard him, Rukia - chan…" She clasped her hands and stretched her arms out in front of her. "…I'll be ready!" She winked.

An ill- maintained machine in one of the sheds arrayed behind them on the rooftop wheezed and thudded into service, an incongruous back beat as the two women watched Ichigo spring up and over the roof – edge to where the hollow had been feeding. He landed with his back to them, in a balanced three – point crouch atop the box – like structure of the ventilation system, head up and zanpaku- to held out from his body and behind him by his rigid right arm. He stood slowly, assuming a half - slouching stance with the brutal cleaver shape of Zangetsu resting on his shoulder. Rukia and Orihime both leaned forward in attention, observing from the middle distance as Ichigo scanned the open areas of the cluttered rooftop before him; shaking his head, he blurred again as he began quartering the sizable length of the high- rise roof in a fugue of speed.

Rukia frowned and winced unconsciously at the elevated and ugly rhythmic noises coming from behind her, eyes flickering in an attempt to keep Ichigo in focus. "Something's wrong," she said in an aside to Orihime, "he should have located the hollow…" She lowered her gaze to her cel phone to take another reading. Orihime turned to respond, then, distracted, turned her head further to look at the source of the horrendous sound at their backs.

Simultaneously, the eyes of both women flew open wide. "…BEHIND us!" they screamed in unison.

The bloody – faced hollow was twenty feet away, doubled over and stalking secretively, quietly as it could, two of six claws clasped over vestigial nostrils to stifle its wheezing, four eyes wide as hub caps as it realized it had been discovered. It might have looked comical if not for the pale fire of predatory intent gleaming in those eyes and the eviscerated, leaking pieces of a woman, clad in a security guard uniform, impaled on the knife – like skewers of another claw. The creature reared up, yowling in rage, six bulky arms extended in a murderous asterisk that quivered with rapacious tension. The muscular action caused claw edges to rip completely through the ghost - body and the remains of the poor soul fell with a tragic liquid shlup into a heap at its feet.

Still screaming, Rukia launched herself and tackled Orihime, carrying her over the side of the building.

Ichigo heard the ladies' desperate voices, and swore violently. He straightened from his crouched position and promptly struck his head against the underside of the skeletal steel staircase he had been searching under. He staggered out and across the rooftop to a clear sight – line to the noise.

He saw the hollow whipping six dagger - tipped arms down through empty air and he briefly glimpsed white sneakers and black boots plummeting out of sight. Without further thought he threw himself into space after the women, sheathing Zangetsu as gravity drew him down.

Even as Rukia was carrying Orihime over the edge of the building, her lips were moving at desperate speed. "Torn feathered sky guard..." She whispered, her voice rising over the susurrus of their passage. She released her companion, physics guaranteeing they in their descent would remain in proximity, so that she could create the necessary patterns in the rushing air.

"Torn feathered sky guard

Spear wielding demon hunter

Tattered wings that shelter and save

And sweep with zephyrous force…"

Rukia, shirt flapping up to expose her stomach, one eye squinting and shining in concentration, crossed her arms and swept them outward, pointing with the index and middle fingers of both hands.

"Mastery spell 27! Arekuruukaze – levitating gusts!"

There was a sudden increase in their rate of speed and Rukia gasped in consternation. Then a series of buffeting blasts of wind began to curl around the two, slowing their fall. Orihime's cries cut off with a gasp, her open mouth closing with an audible clop.

Rukia's shoulders relaxed slightly and she gave Orihime a tight grin. "That was close, but we should be okay…" She saw Orihime's eyes widen and she snapped her head up. "That idio…"

"Craaaaaaaap!" Ichigo struck them both and all three began a fast, tumbling fall down towards the pavement.

Upside down, Rukia was grasping at Ichigo's robe and yelling. His sharp features were desperate as he cast around for some way to arrest their fall. Orihime's face tensed into a determined mask and her hand fought its way up to her hair clips through the careening drop, even as Ichigo's foot narrowly missed her nose. She pushed her hand down, palm towards the ground and the increasingly larger trees, cars and pedestrians.

In a flash of rainbow lightning, Orihime's hair clips disappeared. The freefalling three were being circled by the vapor – trailed colorful forms of her shunshun – rikka. Rukia and Ichigo stopped their actions and turned attentive eyes her way.

"Hingaku, Baigon, Lily…" She shrilled against the wind, tears creeping up the sides of her face, unbound auburn locks swirling a halo around her head. "Santen Ketsuhun!" Her hand tightened to a fist. "I REJECT!"

Three of the "protecting flowers" swooped into a triangle formation between Orihime and the ground and a shielding plane of shimmering spirit formed between the connecting angles of their wings. The headlong descent of the three hollow - hunters stopped and they fell into a heap onto the slightly yielding, glowing surface of the triangle. Orihime's face dissolved into a smile from behind the curtain of long hair that had settled over it.

One of the remaining flowers, black with a yellow racing stripe, ceased circling and hovered in the air near Ichigo. Delicate broken chains extended from its tiny finned legs and waved like tails in the updraft generated by its wings. "You dumbass!" it said to him, arms folded and eyes hot above a bandana – mask covering its nose and mouth. "You're supposed to be frigging smarter than that. You nearly killed the women."

Ichigo recoiled in surprise and his cheeks reddened. He scowled at the little flyer. "Who the hell are you?" Rukia cleared her throat loudly next to his ear.

"Tsubaki." It moved closer to his face. "What a bonehead move…" It raised a small finger and pointed between his eyes. "Do BETTER, jerk."

A sudden blow buffeted Ichigo's head. "'Ahem!'" A glacial female voice stated, soft and deadly. Ichigo and Tsubaki turned their heads, eyebrows rising at the same time.

"Hand. Move. NOW." Rukia's eyes were in shadow as she looked down. Ichigo's hand was on her left breast, from where it had fallen during their confused and jumbled landing.

Ichigo turned bright red and jerked the hand away. He bowed his head. "I am SO sorry, Rukia." He said, as Orihime turned to observe. After a moment, he looked down at his hand and his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Soft…" he whispered. Tsubaki rolled his eyes and moved quickly away from the area. Rukia's hand was nearly invisible with speed as she used multiple palm – strikes on Ichigo's chin and gut. His eyes crossed as he gasped and doubled over.

Orihime turned away from the carnage as the shield drifted the final feet to the ground. Her lips pursed as she glanced surreptitiously down at her own chest.

Flickering shadows flitted across the graffiti – marked cinderblock walls and the noisome collection of trashcans and refuse as the one bare LED bulb in the alley- way attempted to paint on a decaying urban canvas the motion of the shunshun – rikka, slowly circling Orihime. She absently brushed her hair back over her ears and then re – folded her arms tightly below her breasts, shifting her balance between legs, as she took in the tense dynamic between Rukia and Ichigo.

They were staring at each other, an entire conversation being conducted silently through facial expression and body posture. A lowered eyebrow, a frown, a shrug and eye - roll, a hair toss and sharp tug at the bottom of a shirt… a declination of the head and snort, the tapping of a foot. Finally, two nods. It seemed to Orihime that somehow a fog was lifted.

Still livid, her irritation illustrated by a sharpness in her movements, Rukia pulled out her phone and checked the screen, pacing along the short length of the alley and blind to the squelching trash. She jabbed a finger upwards. "Up there Ichigo. Finish this, I don't want to see your stupid face." She turned her back to him.

Frowning, he turned away. He lifted Zangetsu, allowing the sheath – wrapper to fall away, and stepped to the end of the alley, where there was more space. "C'mon, old man, give me a boost…" Using the sword's wrapping, he began to whirl the zanpaku- to in a tight circle above his head until the weapon was a humming blur.

"Hey."

He shifted his stance and saw Rukia looking over her shoulder at him, her face partially shadowed, visible eye unreadable. "Yeah?" The blade twirled on.

"Hurry up." The corner of her mouth quirked upwards. "I don't like being forced to jump off of buildings. Return my honor to me."

He met her gaze, brows drawn. Then he smirked and jerked his chin up. "Yeah. Let's just say it was an accident and you fell…" He shifted away from her. "I'll never tell anyone." He looked up at where he was headed, turned back to her and gave her a full smile. "Except Renji." He released the soul cutter and Zangetsu sliced the air like an arrow, drawing him upwards by his grip on the hilt. His laughter colored the air in his wake. The sword pulled him towards the middle of a building across the street, where he landed on the fire escape with cat feet. He began a climb towards the top of the skyline.

"Don't you dare!" Rukia cried after him, eyes haunted by the teasing in her future.

Ichigo was still laughing as he reached the rooftop and dropped over the edge. The hollow had fallen again on the food it had carried and its jaw moved busily. His good humor fled.

"Yo." He said, soul cutter resting on his shoulder. The hollow turned from its half - devoured prey and stretched to it's full and impressive height. Cold comfort, but it had been devouring a spirit. "I could say that I'm here to help, to restore your spirit energy to the Balance… but I'd be lying. I'm here to kick your ass." The hollow moved to face him, the clawed fingers on all six hands flexing, clawed toes digging through gravel and into the concrete below. It tossed it's head and rushed forward, slavering.

His attacker slowed to his eyes as he rushed forward, whatever sound coming from its throat was silent to him in his concentration. Zangetsu was a straw in his hand, a twig, as it's black and silver shape moved to strike.

The first exchange was swift: overhand left, underhand right, middle left slashing to disembowel and a head thrust with the ripping buzzsaw of a mouth. Ichigo countered, all wrist and defense, sayai waza, feet planted and almost casual, his blade meeting the claws and batting them away with a muffled sound like knocking on bone with a knuckle. As the hollow thrust its head forward at him again he reversed and struck the underside with Zangetsu's kashira, snapping the mouth closed with a spray of noisome glop that struck his skin and burned.

He flowed backwards and to the left, falcon eyes shadowed by the spikes of his hair, and then attacked. Legs driving from the crouch, Zangetsu held parallel to the ground and whipping forward in a battojutsu strike, he passed under the suddenly leaping hollow, sword tip hacking an air conditioning unit apart. In a blink he was back in guard, watchful and focused, ignorant to the misty spray of coolant behind that prismed in the evening sun and matted down the hair around his neck. The hollow thudded to the ground and then lurched forward. The Soul Reaper went to meet it.

"Rukia – chan," Orahime began, eyes turned skyward, hands cupping the silent flower Ayame. "This shouldn't take long, should it? Ichigo will be right down...?"

Rukia grinned and flapped a hand. "He's probably just finishing up now." She turned away, pursed her lips and turned her attention back to her cel phone.

"…Getting his butt kicked…" Tsubaki opined as he darted by. Rukia cocked an eyebrow, her eyes sliding back towards Orahime.

Again claws flew at him from all angles and his soul cutter and he were one as they responded, a dervish of hot steel and cold intent that began to force the hollow back along the roof with vicious kiri after kiri.

"I am sooo done with you, bastard." Ichigo grunted. The hollow leaped upwards to escape a thrust and Ichigo launched a jumping heel - kick that drove the predator face – first in to the gravel. Seemingly desperate, it crouched in the small crater of rocks and attempted to overcome his defense by grasping with four dagger hands simultaneously, reaching for any part of Ichigo that could be grabbed. He blocked one hand with the flat of his sword and grasped the wrist, intending to rip the appendage off. He used his moving leg to deflect two other arms.

The fourth soiled hand dug uneven horny knives into his shoulder and began to tighten. A spurt of blood flumed the air, painting the creature's hand and speckling his flesh with carmine – colored dots. The hollow raged triumphantly, four eyes wide, bulbous tongue flaying the air in front of his nose as it tried to sponge a taste of him. His teeth gritted and he forced himself backwards in a tremendous push, ripping the points from his flesh in another arterial splash.

He rose slowly from a crouch, Zangetsu perpendicular to his body and pointing at the enemy, drips from his wound forming an uneven pool amidst the small rocks at his feet. "Now… I'm pissed!" He tilted his head left and then sharply right, causing a cracking sound. Then, he moved.

Making an eye- blink seem glacial, swift to the measurements of atomic time, where God's metronome is the whoosh of an electron in its orbit, Ichigo Kurosaki, Soul Reaper, moved. When he was finally still he stood 30 feet past the hollow, leaning on his zanpaku – to; his enemy looked down, saw no wounds and began to take a step. A slim green line appeared across the hollow's neck. The line darkened and suddenly a flood of vile green liquid, possessing the consistency and olfactory characteristics of week – old chunky milk, vented from what had opened into a long gash.

The hollow screeched, quivering in place.

Rukia brandished the cel phone, taking a step towards Orahime. "Just as I said…" she began, pointing with her other hand towards the flashing indicator light on the hollow – detector LCD screen.

Orahime's face lit up with a thankful smile.

The hollow pivoted before his view, against the vivid background of the ignited clouds and burning sky; two of its arms began to jerk and then the knees of the stubby legs caved and the creature flopped down onto its side. The head continued to twitch, the motions growing weaker, digging a small depression in the stones covering the roof with its motion. The liquid slowed to a stream, then to a trickle that continued to mark a path across the hollow's side and spread tributaries beneath the body.

Ichigo watched for a time, and then slowly approached the prostrate hollow. His face grave, he stood over his enemy's head with his soul cutter upraised, duty - bound to perform the final soul cleansing on the perverted spirit. He took another moment to observe the four eyes of the monstrous figure, trying to discover some trace or remnant of humanity. Two of the frantic eyes slowly dimmed. The other two…

The flickering indicator on the detector went out. Immediately, the device made a "boop" sound and a solid light appeared in the exact same location on the screen.

Rukia's jaw dropped. "TWINNER…?"

The lower portion of the hollow's head exploded outward in a jet of green, jaws agape hungrily, fastening on Ichigo's left trapezious and clamping down with razors of bone. He went down on one knee, the tip of Zangetsu wavering, face to the sky and contorted into a wrenching grimace. The wheezing grunts of the creature thudded against his ears. It's two eyes were alight with rage and animal satisfaction as it's teeth pumped venom into his spirit – body.

Black.

There is black, and it can be seen that the black is spotted with reflected light and is at the center of a brown eye, bordered with long black lashes and opened wide. This eye has a twin, and both convey a bone - deep agony, spread wide in their convexity beneath arching black brows, partially obscured by red – orange spikes of hair but emerging as an essential component of a tense and sweating face. The muscles of the jaw jump and the teeth lock themselves together as this face continues to gaze upwards with currents of apocalyptic emotion. A sudden curtain rises between the face and all observation. The curtain is a liquid. The liquid is red.

The curtain dwindles for the moment and the face in all its struggle can again be seen, creases at the corners of the mouth, thin lips stretched over grinding teeth and veins throbbing at the temples. The face continues to tell a story, punctuation marks messily dotted and stroked in red ink across its features. But, the eyes, in a heartbeat they have changed. They have narrowed, their shallow functional depth expanding, connecting to something that defies description; something growing, accumulating and combining as iron filings do when exposed to a magnet. It is great, great anger. It is power.

Ichigo Kurosaki's dark force, his spirit energy, begins to build and flex and push and demand release.

His face turns slowly to regard the hollow that is attached to him, scything smile inches from his eyes and burrowed into the spirit – matter of his shinigami self. His eyes narrow further, his mouth drawing into a snarl. His zanpaku – to steadies, cleaver shape rising in his hand.

The hollow's muffled voice ramps to a fear- filled insect scream. Its distorted image can be seen in Ichigo's eyes, eyes that have taken on a lighter color, a glow that washes out the brown but leaves an expanded black center. The dark force.

Black.

The shunshun - rikka stopped circling and turned their collective eyes skyward with Orahime. "Impressive." Tsubaki allowed in a comment to no one.

Rukia took an involuntary step backwards, her eyes drawn to the rooftop as well, cel phone in one hand and her Chappy – the - rabbit gikongan dispenser forgotten in the other.

"His strength…" she said, softly.

"This means he's in trouble, doesn't it?" Orahime said. Her eyes closed, and then opened in a purposeful squint.

Ichigo gazed at the head of the hollow, teeth fastened onto him near his neck, and he smiled mirthlessly. A spirit wave emerged from his body and crept outward, sweeping everything before it. It made contact with the nose of the hollow and the creature's head was forced backwards despite its best efforts. Pieces of Ichigo's spirit – body and shihakusho were ripped free by the reluctantly extricated teeth of the hollow and carried away, to flap like bloody streamers from the predatory spirit's toothy maw as it was pushed further away.

The hollow rolled up against an elevator – machinery shed several body lengths from Ichigo and its body spread, four of the six arms moving and the misshapen block – like head waving sinuously on its muscular neck. The evil looking head was extruded from a bony, skull – like carapace, the top portion of which still wore the torn and ichor – splashed features of the creature's original form. It continued to scream as spirit energy washed over it, splayed out against the flexing structure of the shed as if caught against the wall of a spinning centrifuge.

Ichigo's head inclined and the spirit pressure ceased. He staggered to his feet and stepped back. The hollow tilted its head back and ran it's broad tongue along black gums to assure that no tasty morsels had been missed. It pushed up against the wall of the shed, rising to its full height, and then began to shake itself violently. As the shinigami watched, the shudders extending through the creature's form caused striations and then ichor – weeping cracks to appear in its shell. It voiced a long and ululating cry and began to grunt. Ichigo involuntarily turned his head at the wave of fetor rising from his enemy, but maintained his weakened guard position.

The cracks grew and then the thick shell of the creature split apart at the compromised areas; an odd movement and some unseen muscular action within the hollow resulted in the ejection of an oddly twisted and asymmetrical hollow with two massive arms and a killing wound across it's neck. Even as this lifeless creature was ejected, the very substance of its carcass began to sublimate into the ether, soul – stuff drawn into the Balance as any destroyed hollow would. In seconds there was nothing left of that half of the hollow but a greasy oblong splash on the small stones beneath their feet.

The streamlined remaining hollow did not wait for the cavities to close over. Mouth leaking yellow poison and painted with his blood, carapace covered with weeping green cracks, the creature opened its snake – wide, teeth – filled jaws and ran at him. Ichigo was slowed and the jaws might have closed upon him, or a sweeping blow by one of the hollow's four deadly arms might have ripped through to his spine, if not for the nearly forgotten remains of the ghostly security guard. Perhaps in one final act of karmic triumph, the charging hollow put a foot down into the remains and slipped, balance lost and sliding to the side. One uncontrolled arm impacted the shinigami's zanpaku – to, and the blow to Zangetsu was enough to send Ichigo flying backwards over the edge of the building.

Again, falling into space.

The folds of his black shihakusho snapping swiftly about him, Ichigo was looking up at the sky and the reverse arc of red droplets trailing his descent. He fell into the shadows of the tall buildings around him and his vision dimmed. Before he could focus his will enough to visualize and grab at reitsu – ribbons, or emerge with another solution to his problem with gravity, he was struck on the side and caught up in a gentle embrace.

"Tch." The lean, raven – tressed Soul Reaper carrying him clicked her tongue. "You idiot…" Purple eyes took stock of his wounds with concern. "I said to return my honor to me. Not pay for it in your own blood."

He laughed, his breath carrying blood and sputum up across his lower lip. "Heh, I'll be fine…"

Rukia Kuchiki, Soul Reaper, wielder of Sodeno Shirayuki, could not help but grin as she flipped in mid – air, her momentum carrying the two of them to a fire escape landing.

"Thanks, Rukia." He said, softly. She released her hold on him and he stood unsupported. He paused, and then looked at her and and jerked his chin upwards. "I'm not done with that bastard." One bloodstained hand clenched into a fist in front of him.

She gazed into his eyes. "I know." She looked up and pursed her lips. "Its coming after you." The hollow was using all six limbs to spider it's way headfirst down the side of the building.

Ichigo raised his eyes and began to grin. "Let's go, old man." He said and released Zangetsu. He climbed up on to the waist – high steel railing at the edge of the fire escape and balanced himself, soul cutter held in his rawboned right hand.

Rukia frowned, her knuckles white where they rested on the hilt of her zanpaku – to. "Ichigo…"

He turned his head slightly, regarding her over his shoulder, and winked. "Hey, what kind of face is that? I've still got to get those Japanese Literature notes for third period tomorrow…" The filtered rosy light from the dwindling sun lit half his face, and it seemed that his visible eye glowed. "I'll be great." At his feet shadows lay thick as mist in the canyon - streets of Karakura Town.

Rukia inclined her head. Never taking her eyes from him, she somersaulted past him and jumped her way to the alley far below, where Orihime waited.

The hollow, spotting him where he balanced, pushed off from the building and fell towards him at incredible speed, just as the setting sun broke free from behind the building.

Ichigo leapt up to meet it.

**3. Same place. Back to Right Now.**

As Rukia landed, Orihime rounded on her. "Why? Why, Rukia – chan? He's hurt!"

Orahime attempted to walk closer to the Soul Reaper, but was entangled in the massive hug being executed by Rukia's physical body under the direction of Chappy, the temporary soul replacement occupying the shell. "Pyuh!" the Rukia said, beaming.

Looking slightly disconcerted, shinigami Rukia continued to gaze upwards. "This has become an honor – battle that Ichigo must fight alone, with no help from me." Her eyes widened and her lips compressed as she saw and felt the massive blow Ichigo and Zangetsu delivered. Orihime gasped and raised her eyes as well. "You," Rukia said, pointing, "are not a shinigami, and have no such restriction…"

"Yo!" They heard Ichigo's voice, sounding somewhat desperate. "Orahime!"

"Tsubaki…" Orahime said in one breath. "…Koten Zanshun… I REJECT!"

"YES!" The shunshun rikka screamed as his black and yellow form knifed upwards in a shrieking blur.

The explosion of green and yellow fluid resulting from the bisection of the hollow evaporated, drawn into the Balance, before it could do more than flavor the air with the putrid stench of a soul's putrefaction.

"What…" Ichigo started as he gingerly landed on the street, "what was that two – for – one bastard?"

"A symbiote hollow, also called a Twinner. Only one has ever been seen previous to today. Two souls with a link so strong that it is maintained even after death." Rukia frowned. "There's no real way to tell the second hollow is there because the two are wrapped into one skin."

"Hey, what is... what's going on here?" The two turned to the mouth of the alley, where a conservative businessman had stopped in slack - jawed amazement.

"Spirit - sensitive..." Rukia said.

"Yeah, yeah..." Ichigo replied crossly. "Hey," he said rudely to the businessman, "If you don't mind, we're trying to rehearse here for our school play..." He motioned with his hand, sending scarlet drops flying from his fingertips.

The man's eyes moved over the shunshun - rikka, lingered on Orahime's breasts and fixed on the hilt extending over Ichigo's shoulder. "Oh!" he said, face relaxing. "Sorry, my mistake." He started to walk away, then stopped. "What an odd..?" He looked up and met Ichigo's eyes, frowned and then continued on.

"Maybe," Ichigo said, returning to the subject of their previous conversation, "maybe someone should come up with a way to figure out if there are two bastards in a body. Does that sound unreasonable?" He put his hand against the alley wall and stopped, silent but for the plip – plop of blood falling onto the street from his wounds. "I'm, ah, going to rest for a minute…"

Ichigo sat, Zangetsu across his crossed knees, back against the cold alley wall, his expression alternating between a wince at the pain he could now allow himself to feel and a scowl at his two female companions. "Would someone," he said, tiredly, "please make up their mind? Please?" His eyes rolled upwards. "Getting dark, here…!"

The ladies ignored him. The shunshun - rikka Lily, however, zoomed over to hover before his face; she gave him a huge and suggestive wink and slapped twice at the tattoo on the exposed section of her posterior. Ichigo recoiled, reddening and blinking his eyes several times in disbelief. "O – orahime…?" He stuttered.

"No, really, my Soten Kishun should do the trick." Orihime motioned with her hands and smiled at Rukia. "Just a minute, Kurosaki - kun."

"Perhaps. But I know that my Kido technique will fix him up…" Rukia stated, tapping at her cheek. She had returned to her physical form and one hand was jammed into the front pocket of her black jeans.

"I really feel my healing reflection shield is the best way. Look how it took care of Jidanbo's arm..!"

"From what I hear, that took days, though. Kido is much quicker, Orahime - kun."

"Yo! I'm starting to feel lightheaded here… Hey, and I've got homework!"

Both women turned towards him, silencing him with glares.

"Erf." Ichigo sighed and attempted to shrug, then grimaced and frowned at the resulting pain. His eyebrows and the corner of his mouth began to twitch.

"This sucks." He grumbled.


End file.
